Causatum
by Wonder Squint
Summary: Post-Movie. All she wanted was to feel and to know that she was alive. He needed to know that he had saved her, that she saved him. Whitney and Clay Miller. RE-UPLOAD. Warning: Contains Incest


_Summary: All she wanted was to feel and to know that she was alive. He needed to know that he had saved her, that she saved him. __**Warning: Contains Incest**_

_Causatum is Latin for Consequence, for those who do not know. **This is a re-post**_

_Copyright: I do not own Friday the 13__th__ 2009 reboot or any of its characters._

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**CAUSATUM**

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Three weeks.

It had been three weeks since their final battle with Jason Voorhees.

Once.

It had been once Clay asked his sister what really happened. It had been once that Whitney told him of how Jason killed her friends. Once and never again.

Whitney hoped that it would go away: the memory, but Clay knew that his sister would never be the same again. The past would always rule the present.

She realised such anytime she had told Clay of her time with Mike, whom he had never met. He knew very little of him, only what he looked like and that his little sister loved him dearly; keeping a framed photograph of him on her bedside cabinet, even when she moved in with Clay, it remained in that position. Forever reminding her what she and Mike _could_ have had.

He thinks he would not have liked Mike. Although, he would never admit that, of course.

Every night had become a routine - either Clay would run to Whitney's room because she had woken suddenly from a nightmare, screaming or she'd wander to his room in tears, beckoning him to stay with her until sleep reclaimed her.

Everyday, he called her each hour to check on her. He needed to hear her voice just as she needed to know she wasn't truly alone. They were each other's lifeline; they had no one else, not anymore.

When Clay had left, and Whitney took care of their ailing mother, she had Mike and Clay had his friends. Now, they had but each other.

Six weeks.

It had now been six weeks from that day. Whitney was still that shaking wreck he had found under the earth in Jason's lair.

Clay tried to help, but she continued to push him away. She was lost to the world and everything around her.

She wasn't his nurturing, compassionate and loving sister, he had always known and loved. She was now the shell of the person she once was.

However, despite how oblvious she had become, she had noticed how intently Clay watched her; hyperaware of everything she did; becoming more intimate with her.

"They won't stop." Whitney broke the silence as Clay entered the room on one morning of many. "I know." he replied regretfully, approaching her. "I'm sorry." he pulls her to him, crashing her body against his, his chin resting on her head.

She sobs against his chest. His t-shirt becoming damp with tears. A tear escapes Clay's eye caused by his inability to help his sister. He hated seeing her like this. She didn't deserve it.

Ten weeks.

Ten weeks after hell, he takes her out and she drinks Jason's memory into oblivion. Clay held her hair hours later as she vomited it out of her system. Picking her up into his arms and carrying her to her bed afterwards, ready to leave when she objects and he holds her the rest of that night.

He didn't sleep. He lay awake listening to her sighs and her breathing. That moment seemed to be the only reassurance that she was really there.

Clay had finally drifted off then woken again by Whitney, struggling to pull free from his grasp. She repeated something faintly before becoming clearer. She was calling for Mike. His name a prayer as Clay shook her gently awake and she started to burn up.

She sat upright on the bed. Cold sweats. Breathing erratic. Her chest rising and dropping instantly. Her auburn curls tangled together. Tears began to fall uncontrollably. Clay pulled her around to him, his hands holding her face firmly. "It's okay. You're safe. Jason is dead. I found you, remember?"

Her green eyes look up into her brother's matching orbs, seeing the sincerity in them. She nods slightly.

He places his forehead lightly onto hers, their eyes still fixed on the others.

He whispers then. "I'm so sorry, Whitney." added Clay, sharing her breath.

She bit her lower lip when she allowed her eyes to drift to his.

Crashing his lips to hers as his strong, muscular arms wound around her athletic and feminine body.

Identical thoughts ran through both their minds. _This is wrong. _Yet it felt so right?

Whitney needed to feel alive.

He needed to know - needed to know that she saved him, he saved her

This was the only resolution.

Clay always dreamt of his mother and sister and his failure. His failure to take care of the only one's he cared for and loved. He failed to take on the responsibilities his little sister had to endure.

Looking back and reflecting on everything in his life, he hated himself for that. For 'bailing' at seventeen, leaving his sister to take care of their mother. They didn't have a father, never needed one but Whitney needed someone other than Mike. She needed her brother. To help her, protect her, be there for her.

He concluded that he'd never make that mistake again. He'd be with her always and forever. Never leaving her alone.

They were now in the process of relieving each other of their clothing. Clay's shirt went first. Whitney's second, then both their pajama bottoms. Then Whitney froze just as Clay continually ran his hands all over her body, and his mouth from her collarbone to her lips.

He stopped too, noticing her hesitation. "What's wrong?"

That was it. Nothing was wrong. She pondered the truth of it as her brother touched her in such a way.

She shook her head and gazed into his eyes. Her hands placed on his smooth and solid chest. She managed a small smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his lips to hers.

Clay was startled by Whitney's sudden enthusiasm, but eventually mimicked her zest.

He disgarded his own and Whitney's underwear before laying her down and hovering over her. He gazed down at her beauty. "I found you." and with that he entered her and only mere seconds had passed before the constant and elongated sounds and breaths of pleasure escaped.

Lips crashing, bodies moving in rhythm to one another, hearts racing, pounding through their ribcage. Oxygen becoming a necessity, they broke apart. Whitney's skin turning red from beneath his teeth. Clay's back muscles and toned skin flexing as Whitney's nails dug in.

They tried to speak, but their voices were shaking, caused by their irregular breathing.

Laying side by side under the covers, the siblings stared at the ceiling. Their goal accomplished.

Clay pondered the mystery of her. He loved her and their blood relation would be their un-doing.

Within the silence, all that could be heard was the beating of their hearts.

Whitney turned to Clay then, "You saved me." Never has one phrase meant so much.

Clay smiled, his thumb caressing the temple of Whitney's face. The moon shining through her bedroom windows, glistening onto her face. She was beautiful, more so now than ever.

He pulled his arm around her waist and brought himself on top of her, continuing what he hadn't finished before.

Whitney, all the more willing, wrapped her long and toned legs around Clay's waist, pulling his body more firmly onto hers. The contact was exhilarating.

They broke apart sometime later. Whitney fell asleep shortly, Clay had tired her out. He spooned her for the rest of that night until the sun rose.

His arms wrapped around her sides, hand placed on her flat stomach. His face nested in her long, messy, red-hair. She woke and reminisced in what had happened between her and her brother within the previous hours.

They didn't want to numb, they wanted to feel.

They will always remember that day but now that they had opened up to one another, it wouldn't haunt them. For they had each other.

Clay would never leave his sister's side again. She'd never leave his.

Together forever.

**The End.**


End file.
